Behind Trust and Loyalty or Behind Closed Eyes
by Angel of the Lord
Summary: Set in season one of Angel. A retake of the episode Five by Five. Except everything's really not right. [Kinda on hold right now. Check the bio for more details.]
1. That Place Where You Reside

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Angel the Series" and such related television persona/themes are the creative property of Joss Whedon and co (disclaimer). Any attempt to steal said property would lead to a sticky rash, uncontrollable itching and exploding on Tuesdays…

This story contains child abuse, drug use, self-mutilation and all those other things my mother would frown upon if she knew I was putting it on the net. If you're one of _those_ hippies, what the heck are you doing here?

Setting: _Angel_ season one, episode "Five by Five."

* * *

**Behind Trust and Loyalty or Behind Closed Eyes**

by

**Angel of the Lord**

_

* * *

If I hired you out and put your soul on a shelf  
__Would it be yourself or would it be someone else?_  
_Would it be the person that you try to be?_  
_Or would it be a black soul painted so effortlessly?_

_Watch who you curse..._

_And if I hung your soul out to dry_  
_Would the foul stench of selfish pride burn my eyes?_  
_Be that place where you reside_  
_Behind trust and loyalty or behind closed eyes_

_-**Plastic Shadow** by **Blindspott**._

* * *

The apartment door clicked shut.

"Don't worry, hell will freeze over before I have sex with him," Cordelia called out to Dennis, reassuring the often jealous ghost. Wesley closed his folder in a huff.

"Thank goodness for small favors. I'm going to try calling Angel again," the British man announced as he dropped his satchel and reached for the phone.

"'Kay. I'm going to pack a bag."

"Cordelia, please. Just a few things," Wesley told her in a parental tone while he began to dial. "We're not going on safari."

_Nope, just into hiding,_ Cordy thought with a smirk. Although ever since the A.I. team had found out about the rogue Slayer's return to the world of the conscious the brunette had maintained that she liked the plan where she was scarce. She headed into the darkened bedroom and gasped as a figure stepped out of the shadows.

"I got a little problem." _Faith._ The Slayer in question paused to give Wesley a disdainful look before returning her attention to Cordelia. "I don't feel Angel's in the game. But somehow I think you guys are the key." Faith advanced on Cordy and the young woman found herself backing away from the psychotic and into the kitchen. "Now, what could I do to really make him hate me? Hmmmm..."

"Faith."

"Shut up Wesley." The sheer rancor that filled her voice made Cordelia twitch.

Wesley was not deterred. "Listen to me. It's not to late."

"For cappuccino? 'Cause it just keeps me up."

"It's not too late to let me help you."

He sounded sincere, and Cordelia followed his lead. "Yes," she said in a shaky voice. "We want to help you." Faith just stared at her and for a fleeting moment Cordelia thought she saw a hint of uncertainty pass through her dark eyes. Faith blinked and looked away and whatever emotion Cordy had seen there was gone.

"I realize there has been failures. On both sides." The Watcher persisted, trying to get through to his Slayer.

Faith smirked. "You're a pretty obvious one, aren't you Wes?" She chuckled a little. "God, what where they thinkin'?"

Wesley ignored the comment. "Faith, we can still work through this. It will require effort and trust but-"

"Trust? Trust you? Yeah, because that worked so well the first time."

"Please, just let us try."

The pleading tone of Cordelia's voice made the woman pause. Facing her Faith laughed bitterly. "You too, C? What is this? "Make Nice with the Psychos Week"?" She shook her head. "You can't help me."

Cordelia took a tentative step forward. She reached out a trembling hand. "Faith-"

"Don't touch me!" The Slayer jumped back.

"Faith." Wesley edged closer to this girl. With Cordelia on one side, Wesley on another and two walls blocking Faith in the effect was akin to cornering a wild animal.

The Slayer raised her fists into an attacking position and Wesley stopped moving. Cordelia stopped breathing. Neither one was raring to take on a Slayer in direct combat, but fighting seemed to be, for once, the last thing on the rogue's mind. "This was a mistake," Faith muttered under her breath. Her eyes darted frantically as she searched for an exit.

"No, it wasn't. You came here because you thought we could help..."

"_Shut up Wesley!"_

She dashed forward and shoved Wesley as hard as she could. He flew over the counter and landed, hard, on the couch's backboard. The wood cracked.

At least Cordy hoped that was the wood. "Wes!"

"Fuck." The Slayer was staring at Wesley's prone form in disbelief, like she couldn't quite accept the fact that she had just thrown the man halfway across the apartment. She took a step back into the fridge and closed her eyes tightly. _"Fuck."_

Cordelia moved forward cautiously. "Faith," she practically whispered. The Slayer's eyes flew open at the sound of her name. "Faith, I need to see if Wes is okay. _Please_."

Faith's voice was small when she answered. "Okay."

"Good." Without turning her back on the obviously unstable woman Cordelia made her way over to the fallen Watcher. Keeping her eyes on Faith, who was still pressed up against the refrigerator, Cordy crouched down beside Wesley and hesitated for a moment before reaching over and shaking his shoulder gently. "Wes?"

Taking the opportunity Cordelia's distraction gave her Faith did what she does best. She bolted.

* * *

Angel sniffed the air as he walked up to Cordy's apartment. The tangy scent of leather and soap still lingered, mixed with the almost intoxicating smell of Slayer energy. _Dammit. Faith was here._ The vampire sprinted up the remaining stairs and if he had a pulse his undead heart would have surely stopped beating at the sight of Cordy's door dangling from it's hinges. The wood made a forlorn creaking sound as he tore it completely free from the doorframe.

"Hey, we could have fixed that you know."

"Cordy." The brunette was seated on the floor next to a woozy Wesley. She had propped him up against the salvaged couch cushions and was attempting to attend to his wounds. The damp cloth she held in her hand left small trails of water dribbling down the side of his face when she squeezed it too hard. The excess liquid turned the streaks of blood pink. "Is Wes okay?" Angel asked in alarm.

"I'm fine," the Brit muttered as he tried, and failed, to stand for the ninth time. Cordelia kept pushing him down.

Cordy sighed in annoyance. "Wes, you have a head injury. People with head injuries aren't supposed to move. Or be moved, or something. Besides, I don't care how many times you've been knocked unconscious before, you're not getting up to bleed all over my apartment." Wesley spluttered in a very English manner and Angel offered him a hand. He accepted it gratefully and let the vampire pull him to his feet.

"Thank you, Angel."

"No problem."

"Oh, fine," Cordelia sulked. "If you start walking around and sever your spine or something don't come running to me."

"What happened here?"

"Faith happened."

"She busted in?"

"No. Out." Angel looked to Wesley for verification but he just shrugged and touched lightly the scrape near his temple.

"I was unconscious by this point."

"She attacked you." Angel didn't ask, he stated the three words as if they were fact.

Wesley nodded in confirmation but Cordelia disagreed. "No," Cordy looked to her friends. "It wasn't like that. It was more... She was trying to get away."

"Regardless, we need to find her."

Angel nodded in agreement.

* * *

Faith kicked in the loft's door, not even bothering to use the keys she had "liberated" from the previous owner. _God, what is wrong with me? _She had them right where she wanted them. Wesley was practically begging to be smacked around! It wasn't as if he didn't deserve it.

"_You deserve_ everything _you get!"_

"You deserve it," Faith whispered.

* * *

"On Monday a guy was beaten up here. His wallet and car were stolen." Cordelia pointed to a location in Los Angeles's downtown district on the map they had spread out on her coffee table. Angel sat next to her listening intently while Wesley hovered over them near the remains of the other sofa. "He's still in the hospital." Her hand shifted. "Four blocks over is a restaurant where they had a major knockdown-drag out on Tuesday. Then here another guy ran into something he referred to as "The Bitch from Hell" who sent him home with the paramedics. That was on Wednesday." Her hand came to rest at a third spot near the other two.

_Faith's been a busy girl,_ Angel thought angrily. It was bad enough he wasn't able to protect Buffy from the rogue in Sunnydale but now he couldn't even defend L.A. from the rampant Slayer. Angel gestured to the site of Monday's attack. "This was the first. Took his wallet and keys. Is he still in the hospital?"

"Yes, we were planning to go down and talk to him." Wesley leaned forward a little to get a better look at the map. "What are you thinking?"

"Where's he live?" Cordelia pointed to the home of the first assault victim. Angel nodded and stood up.

"You're going after her then?"

"Yeah."

"I'm coming with you."

Angel turned to the Watcher ready to protest. The homicidal Slayer had already knocked Wesley down once and Angel didn't want to see him hurt again. Wes shook his head. "You're not leaving me behind, Angel. The girl is obviously unstable, you don't know what she's capable of."

"Neither do you."

Wesley's eyes blazed. "I'm coming with you."

Angel sighed. "Fine. But if it comes down to a fight don't get in my way."

"What do you want me to do?" Cordy asked. She was looking around her apartment with a small frown on her face and Angel recognized that she was afraid. Faith had broken into her home, violated what was supposed to be her sanctuary from the world, and she was worried that it could easily happen again.

"Go back to my place and lock yourself in. There's a gun in the weapons cabinet if you need it."

"Okay."

"Would you like an escort, Cordelia?"

"No, it's all right Wes. I think I'd be happier if you both went and got her as soon as you can. As in now."

* * *

The knife bit into her skin and she dragged it slowly down her arm, watching in wonder as the flesh separated to leave a pure river of red gouged into her arm. The wound ached when the cool breeze from the open window tickled it. "You deserve it." She raised the blade again and brought it down sudden swiftness.

* * *

Angel jumped over the closed door in the convertible and ran around to the curb. He was halfway inside the building when he realized Wesley wasn't behind him. The Watcher slammed his door shut and walked quickly up to the vampire. "What are you planning to do?"

Angel growled. "Now isn't the time for this, Wes."

"I need to know. I won't let you just charge in there if you're planning on hurting her!"

"Wesley, she just threw you into-"

"She's a sick girl Angel. She's confused. If you charge in there and attack her you'll only make things worse."

A silence stretched between the two before Angel spoke again. "I won't attack first," he vowed. Wesley nodded, aware that that was probably the best answer he would receive from the vampire. The pair made their way up to the third floor and into the apartment of Dick Loew.

Angel heard it first. A hushed mantra concealed within quiet sobbing.

"You deserve it. Everything. Everything you get. Stupid bitch. Everything..."

The coppery taste of blood was swathed throughout the air. The beast inside Angel thrashed at the bindings of his soul as it recognized the blood for what it was. Or rather who it was. Slayer's blood.

Faith's blood.

"Oh God." Wesley caught sight of her first. She was crouched in the corner by the sink, her face tear stained, huddled in an almost fetal position and scratching at the flesh of her arm with a kitchen knife. Soft tissue was scraped raw and bleeding heavily. The wooden floor panels were stained red. Wesley took a cautious step forward; his hands open in a show of peace. "Faith..."

"Don't!" she cried out suddenly, startling both men. Faith scrambled away and held the knife out in front of her, waving it madly. "Don't!" Crimson liquid flicked from the wounds on her arms and left a dappled pattern on Wesley's pants. He felt sick just looking at it. "Don't touch me..."

A streak of black flashed in Wesley's peripheral vision and suddenly Angel was beside the wounded Slayer. The vampire wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gripped the knife-wielding arm with his other hand. "Wesley, take the knife!" Faith thrashed against him and he tightened his grip to the point of cutting of her air supply. "Wes! The knife!"

The Watcher reached out to take the blade and Faith jerked again. Blood that had dripped down her arm made Angel's grip weak enough for Faith to slash at Wes and the edge sliced through the webbing in his right hand. He recoiled with a hiss. "Wes, take it!" Wesley grabbed at the knife again and managed to dislodge it from Faith's hand. By now the Slayer couldn't have cared less. She was near hysterical from blood loss and the tears that were cascading down her face had blinded her. Faith trembled softly against Angel's chest as he held her close. "We need to get her out of here."

Wes dropped the bloodied blade into the sink and handed Angel a washcloth. "See if you can stop the bleeding. I'll start the car." Angel nodded and wrapped the material tightly around Faith's arm. She whimpered and tried to pull away.

"Shhh... It'll be okay, Faith... It'll be okay..."


	2. Disconnect and SelfDestruct

_Help me if you can_  
_It's just that this is not the way I'm wired_  
_So could you please?_  
_Help me understand why_  
_You've given in to all these_  
_Reckless, dark desires_

_You're lying to yourself again_  
_Suicidal imbecile_  
_Think about it_  
_Put it on a fault line_  
_What will take to get it through to you precious?_  
_Over this_  
_Why'd you throw it away like this?_  
_Such a mess_  
_I don't wanna watch you_

_Disconnect and self-destruct one bullet at a time_  
_What's your rush now?_  
_Everyone will have his day to die_

_-**The Outsider** by **A Perfect Circle.**_

* * *

She shrank back into the dark corner under the bed with her hands clasped in prayer around one of the small silver crucifixes the Reverend had gifted to all the children. As a Catholic she was taught that if you confessed your sins to God you would be forgiven, the Lord would save you. Past transgressions were whispered out loud and she waited for deliverance from Evil.

A looming shadow blocked out what little moonlight was allowed through the small square window opposite the bed.

"What're you doing under there? Fuckin' praying? Useless little shit."

His arm, a slab of meat coated in the green ink of tattoos, snaked under the half-collapsed bed and yanked her out. Her own arm caught on one of the slats as he wrenched her loose and a noise like the snapping of twigs echoed in her mind before she screamed.

"I told you not to fuck around with me, girl."

He dropped her on the floor and she cradled the limb against her chest, small fingers flexing delicately around the bone that jutted out through her skin.

"You're only making this worse for yourself."

The belt-buckle made an ironically pretty tinkling sound when he unhooked the steel bar from one of the final loops in the leather.

"But then I didn't expect much from a whore like you..."

* * *

Cordelia busied herself with paperwork in a futile attempt to calm her nerves. "This is not helping," she scowled, dumping the meagre stack of cases she had been sorting through into a haphazard pile next to the coffee machine. She couldn't figure out how the Watchers did it. Giles, even Wesley, had a certain flair for the ability to sit and stare at ancient scrawl for hours at a time, jotting down notes and deciphering text into some kind of legible format. As it were, Cordy could barely even translate her own squiggles. And the work wasn't taking her mind off the current situation.

The sound of a door slamming brought her quickly out of her thoughts. Scrambling footsteps rushed up the front stairs and Cordelia snuck a hand into the top drawer of her desk, fingers shakily gripping the cool metal handle. The front door burst open.

"Freeze, suckah!"

Wesley paused and raised his hands up in the air. "Cordelia put that gun down now, please."

The brunette sighed and lowered the sidearm reluctantly. "Sorry, I thought you might've been Faith."

"I don't think Faith is in a position to attack anyone," Wesley responded cryptically.

"Did you find her?" The Watcher nodded as he searched through the boxes in the closet for various items. "Did you hand her over to the cops?" A headshake. "No? Then are you going to hand her over the Council?" This earned her an incredulous look. "I'll take that as a no then. So what did you and Angel do with her?"

Wesley's lips tightened into a thin line. "Have you seen the antiseptic?"

"Yeah, it's behind the butterfly bandages. And don't change the subject, what did you do with her?" He didn't reply. "Oh God, you still have her, don't you? She's here, isn't she?"

The door slammed open again, effectively ending all conversation for the time being. "Wes! Wesley," Angel dashed into the main office, almost ramming into Cordy. A sharp gasp escaped her lips. Cradle in the vampire's arms was Faith, her body limp and the only sign of life she exhibited was the shuddering breaths she inhaled intermittently. Blood blemished Angel's skin and clothing.

"Angel... Did she hurt you?"

He looked at her sharply. "Wes, get the elevator."

"Right. I'll join you shortly; I just need to find the sutures."

The elevator dinged softly when the doors closed behind them.

"What happened? Wes? Wesley? Tell me!"

"Cordelia, Faith... is injured. I need to find the sutures and you aren't helping." The aggravated tone in his normally docile voice shut Cordelia up quickly. Without another word she reached to a box sitting on the shelf above Wesley's head and shoved it into the man's hands. "Thank you."

"I want to help."

"...Alright." The pair moved to the stair access quickly, their arms laden with various medical goods. A few feet from the top of the staircase Wesley stopped suddenly and Cordelia collided with his back.

She smacked his shoulder with her free hand. "What are you doing?"

He turned to face the woman. "'Freeze, suckah'?"

"Used to work for Foxy Brown."

"Ah. Who?"

"Wesley…"

"Right, later then."

"Good idea."

* * *

He finished up, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his visage. The girl was still sobbing quietly, though she had lost feeling in her fractured arm long moments ago. Standing slowly, with all the grace of a bull elephant, the hulking man slapped her thigh with a resounding thwack just for good measure. A red welt quickly began to form.

"I wouldn't have done this to anyone else. You're the only one who deserved this."

The floor groaned as he shifted his weight and reached down toward her throat. She instinctively curled into a ball, whimpering softly. His fingers brushed the bared flesh of her shoulders before clutching the thin chain that hung around her neck. With a snap the crucifix was removed.

"God can't save the wicked."

_There is no God._

* * *

The sheets on Angel's bed served as a temporary tourniquet. They quickly soaked through, but the pressure of the silken fabric around her arms was enough to staunch the flow of blood, at least for the moment. Angel sighed and sat back, wrapping an old quilt around the girl's shoulders. She whimpered in her sleep. "Stupid girl," the vampire muttered tiredly. He shook his head.

"What could drive a person...?" Cordelia trailed off, coming to stand behind Angel. She hugged her arms around herself and Wesley touched her shoulder in a comforting gesture before moving to the other side of the bed.

"Many things," the Watcher responded vaguely. He handed Angel a large white bandage absently, a fleeting look of anguish crossing his face. Before she could question it he blinked the emotion away.

Angel, oblivious to their interaction, finished strapping Faith's arms. The bandages quickly soaked through and Cordelia hissed in sympathetic pain. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Physically? Yeah. She's a Slayer, they heal quick" Angel commented, his mind drifting back to days passed. Buffy had healed quickly; even after the severe blood-loss a vampire bite victim suffers she had managed to bounce back within a matter of hours. "Mentally? Emotionally?" He exhaled an unnecessary breath. "I don't know..."

* * *

Wesley had fallen into a deep sleep on Angel's couch, while the vampire himself had left to tend to some "errands." Cordelia wasn't entirely sure what that meant but she had worked with the vampire enough, she thought she knew him well enough, to be aware of the fact that the term "errands" wasn't a healthy one. Especially when Angel was the one doing the air-quotes.

Of course with Wesley off in Slumber Land and Angel off to decapitate God knew what, Cordelia found herself alone in the task of baby-sitting the psycho. It wasn't as difficult a job as Cordy made it out to be; for one thing the rogue Slayer was still unconscious, and for another... well, the first one summed up the situation the best.

Cordelia prowled silently around the vampire's dwelling, being nosey and looking through his possessions. It wasn't that she enjoyed being a snoop (okay, so maybe she did a little) but Angel's underground apartment was so boring. "You would think that a two-hundred plus vampire would know the secrets of cable," she muttered to herself as she removed yet another leather-bound book from an overstuffed shelf. The cracked brown cover held neither image nor text: it was as plain and impassive as the rest of the tome's outer appearance. However when she opened the musty book all earlier thoughts of its lack of worth dissipated quickly from her mind. "My God..."

Of course she had heard that Angel could draw: back in Sunnydale when had mentioned Angelus giving her a major case of the Wiggins by sneaking into her room at night and sketching her while she slept. Even Giles had begrudgingly described the repentant vampire as talented. But it was one thing to here that your undead boss was a graphite-and-lead genius and an entirely different continent to hold in your hands a charcoal image of said boss's ex-girlfriend that was so realistic Cordy could almost smell Buffy's Wal-Mart perfume. _Okay, so maybe not Wal-Mart, but you'd think that girl would take a little more pride in her appearance._

Cordelia flipped through a few pages of the book, leafing through images of the Scooby gang, people dressed in out of style –out of century- clothing and even a few images of herself that she was tempted to steal. She paused at a cross-hatched drawing of Doyle and her fingers itched to relieve the leaf of paper from it's bindings but instead she quickly closed the book and returned it to its spot on the shelf.

Cordelia closed her eyes briefly, her hand still on the leather spine, and thought about what she had seen. Although the sketchbook contained images of many people Angel, or Angelus, had obviously known over the years the dominant figure in the book was that of Buffy Summers. Her face adorned nearly every third page, each image drawn in exquisite detail with obvious love. The vampire's candle that he held for the Slayer was obviously burning as bright as ever and Cordy couldn't help feeling envious. Even though the pair of champions could never be together for obvious reasons they had nevertheless experienced something incredibly powerful between them that would obviously have an effect on everything they do from that moment until the rest of their lives and Cordelia felt bad because she knew that for Angel the rest of his life could well be for a very long time.

From behind her a floorboard creaked ominously. "Good book?"

Cordelia let out a small yelp –one which she would abstain from mentioning when she reiterated this story later because it was girly even for her- and almost fell into the oak bookshelf turning too fast. Her hand landed on the waist-level ledge to steady herself.

"Faith."

* * *

The blankets were tangled tightly around her body and she woke up gasping and thrashing. For a horrible moment Faith thought that the past ten years had been all some kind of weird dream -that she was still trapped in the horrid state-house with those dirty excuses for parents- and she felt immediately sick. But no, that house had smelled of alcohol, urine and dried blood. She could only pick out one of the three here and so shoved the disconcerting thoughts back down deep into her subconscious.

Shaking herself and blinking spots out of her eyes Faith shoved the coverlet off her body and onto the floor, not bothering to notice -or more than likely ignoring the fact- that the patchwork blanket was far older and more loved than she probably would ever be. She kicked the cloth construction after it had landed on the concreted floor so it was probably the latter. Faith closed her eyes and stretched her limbs, still feeling lightened from the blood-loss. Her arms itched; both limbs had been covered from wrist to halfway up her biceps in bloodied bandages. Feeling lethargic but unwilling to stay put Faith clambered out of the bed and panicked when she finally focused on the room she was in. It was unfamiliar and felt... wrong. Wrong, like a vampire wrong.

Smell triggers memory more than any other sense, and the lingering scent of necrotized tissue that assaulted Faith's nose brought back images of the past twenty-four hours. Wesley. Cordelia. Angel. Shit. She hung her head in shame and disappointment.

The basement apartment was quiet and Faith strained her sensitive hearing to detect any signs of life, or un-life. Soft snoring was heard from the main room that adjoined the door to Faith's left, and every now and then a quiet mutter of British could be heard. She snuck out of the sliding door on the right thinking that Wesley needed all the rest he could get.

She stealthily entered the new room, keeping watchful of her steps in the foreign territory and paused when the sound of paper rustling registered in her mind. Cordelia stood with her back to the Slayer flicking through a book of some kind near the base of a staircase. Faith wanted to get to the stairs. She wanted out, and Cordelia was in the way.

The Slayer thought about bolting past the taller woman, but she was unsteady on her feet as it was and any attempt to run would result in a freak-show in motion. Could she fight? Fighting solved everything if you were strong, and running stalled for time for the weak. Muscles in her hands responded to the thought by flexing into a perfect street-fighter's fist: thumb wrapped over fingers, the index and middle finger's knuckles raised for shattering damage. But she couldn't hold it, her arms felt weak and weighty, like they were coated in lead. She was sure that they should hurt as well, but they were both disturbingly numb.

Her third option wasn't the most reliable plan, but it would suffice. The older woman had been virtually terrified of the Slayer last night and Faith figured that she could use that fear to her advantage. She snuck up behind Cordelia, preparing to childishly yell "boo!" in the hopes that Queen C would faint, but an image in the book caught her eye and made her halt her attempt for freedom for a moment. Buffy Summers. Cordelia turned the page. Some random dark-haired woman with a crazy glint in her eyes, and on the opposite page: Buffy Summers. Cordelia flipped another page. Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. _Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers..._ Cordy replaced the book in the shelf and stood very still for a moment, as if pondering something deep and meaningful. Faith didn't bother to think what; she merely stared at the beloved book, her face awash with a downcast expression.

The Slayer shivered, suddenly finding herself cold and feeling very much alone. She took a step back, thinking, _I gotta get out of here,_ but having no idea where she would go. The floorboard creaked with her footsteps, betraying her location. Cordelia spun around in shock and when her mind finally clicked on to who was lurking behind her. Her face became a mask of fear and Faith internally winced at the raw emotion of the look, even though she knew it was her fault the expression was scrawled on Cordy's face in the first place. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment, not knowing what to do, before asking timidly, "Good book?"

Cordelia stared open-mouthed at the Slayer and breathed her name in such a way that Faith wanted to run, even if she wouldn't get very far. Running was always better than dealing with the aftermath of her own fuck-ups. Her mother had taught her that much.


	3. Defeated I Concede

_I have come curiously close to the end, down_  
_Beneath my self-indulgent, pitiful hole, defeated  
I concede and  
Move closer  
I may find comfort here  
I may find peace within the emptiness  
How pitiful_

_It's calling me_

_-**Reflection** by **Tool**_

* * *

"This isn't going to work, Fai," Nathaniel commented innocently, his soft, pre-pubescent voice barely making a sound over the roar of the altitude's wind. Stone tumbled down to the ground below as his foot slipped on a loose chunk of granite and he slid several feet down before managing to wedge his shoe into a crevice. Nate shook his unruly black locks away from his eyes so he could better view the girl seated casually on the rock face nearly forty feet off the ground. 

Fai scoffed at her gangly friend, watching with amusement as he tried to scramble up to the ledge she was comfortably sitting on. Though a full head and shoulders shorter than Nate, and nearly a whole year younger Fai had seen enough during her short stint in the world to know that the sheer rock face wasn't the thing to be afraid of. "Chill, Nate," the girl murmured in a tone that she thought should soothe him. It sounded false and forced even to her own ears, her practise with comforting sounds limited, but Nate took it to heart and hoisted himself up onto the shallow outcropping beside the brunette. "Everything's gon' be cool. Y'know? Like 'the Fonze' cool."

Nate's cherubic face lit up in an uncharacteristic grin and the perpetual worrier of the two friends managed to loosen up enough to point and croon "aeeeh," and then gesture in a pseudo-Fonzie manner despite the ludicrous height. The wind took the opportunity to make itself known again and he yelped and clung to Fai's worn jean shorts subconsciously.

"Real brave, Fonzie," Fai giggled before wrenching her shorts free. "C'mon, it's only another couple of feet."

"Or I'll loose a foot." The brunette giggled again. Nate could be so silly sometimes.

They had been climbing for what had seemed like an eternity but in truth had only been a few hours. It would have taken far less time to reach this projection but Fai had to keep stopping to wait for Nate to gather up enough courage to pull his twiggy frame another few feet up the cliff. She sighed and rolled her eyes heavenward. He just took so long… but she had promised him not to try this alone.

Pouting, Fai realized that she should have taken into account Nate's climbing ability before she agreed to bring him along.

"I still don't see why this is necessasy… nessessessy… why you have to do this."

The girl gripped another protrusion a few inches above her head and pulled, using all the upper-body strength her diminutive form would provide. She scraped her hand-me-down Reeboks against the hard stone and finally found enough purchase to reach up to the next support. Nate simply stood and uncoiled himself to his full length, seizing a natural handhold that was out of Fai's reach. "Show-offer," the girl muttered under her breath. "You're such a dork."

"What was that?" Nate asked, pretending, badly-he'd never win an Oscar- that he had not heard his friend's deprecating remark. Fai poked her small pink tongue out in his direction and pulled herself another foot or two up the cliff face.

There was dirt scattered around the top, and a small smattering of shrub life to conceal small birds from the midday's hot sun. Even for a Boston summer the day was searing. From the top of the cliff the children playing in the flooded quarry below resemble mere ants to the two dark-haired children. Or perhaps not ants, and more so those little Lego people, because surely the children didn't have feelers and many legs and the weird gripping teeth things like the ants crawling through the dusty soil to the left of Fai, right? But wouldn't it be cool if they did?

"Wow," Nate whistled out of amazement, impressed with the view.

"Yeah," Fai echoed his sentiment. "It's wicked cool, huh?"

"Totally."

The pair took a moment –an unusually quiet and calm moment for those two- to admire the scenery. Fai broke the silence first. "Okay, so should I go off that rock there, or take a running jump over the far side?"

Nate groaned in disbelief. The girl had a one-track mind sometimes.

* * *

A few of the boys-in-blue were already wrapping up the crime scene by the time Kate arrived. She scowled in annoyance as on of the younger and obviously more rookie of the officers flicked on a table lamp with gloveless hands. _There could have been a print on that,_ the detective wanted to scream but she caught herself before verbally lashing out at the young man. He was an idiot, and would have deserved a verbal lashing but this wasn't her crime scene and drawing unnecessary attention to herself would have been a stupid move. _Just gonna have to wait,_ she thought with a mental pout. _Get his badge number later and bust him back down to parking tickets._

_You are so lucky I'm busy right now._

A camera flash went off to the left of Kate's peripheral vision and she moved into what was obviously the kitchen of the flashy studio apartment. The owner, a man who had been mugged by what he had described as "the Bitch from Hell" would probably not appreciate the semi-large pool of blood that stained his stylishly tiled floor once he returned home from the hospital. Kate frowned and crouched down, her eyes drifting over the footprints that tracked away from the bloodied patch of floor. _One, two… a third half dragged…_

Detective Paul Kendrick wiped away a lone drop of sweat from his forehead with the edge of his coat. The man, slightly overweight, was sweltering inside the apartment and for all his detective skills couldn't think of a solid reason why the regulations stated that all detectives must be presentable, and why presentable included suits in California's disgustingly hot weather. Gesturing over a blue suited officer he pointed out of the apartment door. "See if the neighbors heard anything."

"Right."

This was getting ridiculous. The series of muggings that had started a few days ago had been pinned on a woman who was only the size of Kendrick's younger sister, which was a ridiculous thought in itself, but now the detective had lost all track of his quarry. She had been trailed to this apartment –not as much "trailed" as this was where the first mugging victim lived when he wasn't confined to a hospital bed- but now she was gone. Kendrick shook his head and sighed, not having a clue what to do next. "Oh, well," he muttered under his breath. "At least things can't get any worse." Glancing up he groaned and wished he hadn't jinxed things by opening his mouth._ Great. Lockley._ "Kate. What are you doing here"

Kate raised an eyebrow at the large man as if he were an idiot. "I'm a detective, Kendrick. See?" She waved an evidence bag containing a large knife she had found resting in the blood. "I'm detecting. Heard we have a fugitive."

Kendrick scowled. Kate seemed to hear everything that went down at the precinct lately. "Yeah." The blonde woman shoved a piece of paper into his hands. "Felony arrest warrant form a place up north called Sunnydale. I've seen it," the man scowled at the paper as if it were the flattened tree-bark's fault Kate was muscling in on his case.

"So do we think she is the one who threw the party here" Kate asked, oblivious to the man's annoyance with her presence. She fiddled with the knife inside the bag, more interested on rushing the item to forensics to see if they could get a solid print off the soiled weapon.

Paul sighed. He would rather be at home with his wife… or more likely a beer and the Cowboys game. Anything was better than dealing with the precinct's resident Ghost-Buster right now. "The guy who lives here identifies her as the woman who mugged him. Put him in the hospital, stole his keys, his wallet. We're lifting prints now, my bet is we get a match."

Kate nodded. She had already suspected as much. "Anything else"

"That's it. You mind telling me why you're here examining a crime scene that wasn't assigned to you"

"It looked interesting."

"Right." Kendrick sighed and shook his head. That Bud that he had in the chiller back at his place was looking tastier and tastier by the second. "You've heard the rumors, haven't you"

"What rumors" Kate asked, playing dumb. It wasn't a very convincing act, surprisingly. She had thought all blondes had no trouble acting like idiots.

An officer in the background knocked the table lamp that Kate had eyed up before. She scowled but Kendrick ignored the man and his apologizing. "You know what I'm talking about. This girl supposedly has some kind of supernatural powers…"

"Really" The other detective wasn't buying her helpless blonde act.

"Come on, Kate. Everybody knows you've gone all Scully." Kate blanked for a split-second. _What the hell is he talking about?_ "Anytime one of these weird cases crosses anyone's desk you're always there. What's going on with you"

It took her a moment to contain herself from slapping Kendrick up the side of his head. Sometimes the man could be such an idiot. It was no small wonder there were so many unsolved crimes floating around Los Angeles with officers like Kendrick on the force. Not quite believing she actually had to explain it to the man Kate ground out"Scully is the skeptic."

"Huh"

_Oh, my God._ "Mulder is the believer," she said slowly, making sure the man heard every syllable. "Scully is the skeptic."

Kendrick scratched his head, still not quite getting it. "Scully is the chick, right"

"Yes," Kate said flatly. She fleetingly wondered why he would even use the X-Files as an example if he had no idea what he was talking about. "But she's not the one that wants to believe."

"And you wanna believe..." Kendrick asked, becoming more confused by the second.

"Oh, I already believe. That's the problem." Kate turned on her heel and left the man with his obviously confused thoughts, determined to have the lab analyze the knife before they closed for the evening. If it were left up to Kendrick the weapon would probably be left in the security locker for weeks before it was even classed as evidence. And she needed to follow up an idea she had about those footprints that lead away from the kitchen and into the hall. Standing around explaining pop-culture to an idiot would take up too much of her night.

Kendrick stared at the wall blankly, trying to absorb what Kate had just told him. "So… Kate wants to be the guy then?"

That didn't sound right.

* * *

Faith glared at Cordelia, utilizing the "I hate everyone, leave me alone" look she had perfected in the fourth grade. It lost a lot of it's effect when she swayed a little out of exhaustion but she managed to keep her scowl focused on the taller woman anyway. "Move." 

Cordelia just stared in shock, not knowing what to do. If she made the wrong move Faith could kill her, even if it didn't look likely at the time. In fact Cordy had a vague feeling that she could probably take Faith down herself right now, but she didn't want to voice those thoughts to an already confused and angry Slayer in case she was wrong. She stood her ground silently and waited for the weakened brunette to make the first move, praying she wasn't wrong in her assumptions.

"Cordelia," Faith growled, using the woman's full name, a rare occurrence in itself. "Move. Please." The ex-cheerleader shook her head and Faith took what was supposed to be a menacing step toward her. "Just get out of my way."

"N-no," Cordy stuttered quietly glancing at the floor. _This is wrong_, she thought to herself and then frowned. She wasn't going to cower to a woman who could barely stand without looking like she was going to throw up. She was Cordelia Chase, for God's sake. Staring Faith directly in the eye defiantly, in a way that hadn't been used on Faith since she had become the Slayer except by Buffy herself, Cordelia steeled herself. "No. You're not supposed to be up. Go back to bed and wait for Angel to get back."

"What?" Faith asked, immediately confused. _What happened to that wimpy teenager I knew back in Sunnydale? The one who moaned over a chipped nail?_ She shook her head. "I'm not going to be bossed around by you. I'm not one of your minions," she sneered out and tried to push her way past Cordelia.

A strong right jab connected with her jaw. The technique was poor but years of physical activity had made Cordelia a force to be reckoned with amongst normal human woman. Faith fell onto her butt, her arms protesting catching her fall. "Ouch," she muttered sitting a bit stunned a few feet away from where she had been standing. Cordelia Chase had literally just knocked Faith the Vampire Slayer off her feet and both parties involved seemed to have a hard time accepting that fact.

"Jesus," Cordy breathed out, her right hand still fisted and hanging pointlessly in the air across from her face. "That wasn't supposed to happen…"

From the floor, disheartened and trying desperately not to show it, Faith responded with a cocky grin. "You're telling me," she said quietly, stalling for time. It was hard enough making it this far across Angel's basement apartment, and with Cordelia blocking her escape route wielding a mean right jab Faith was beginning to think that going back to bed was the best idea she had heard since arriving in this city. "Lucky shot," Faith grunted out, pushing herself to her feet much the chagrin of her arms. The room did a little jig and she closed her eyes for a second to steady herself before bringing her fists up. "Dare you to try that again."

Cordelia shook her head emphatically. "No. No way. I'm not going to start scrapping with you like some kind of animal."

"Yeah, didn't think you could take me," Faith sneered. "Even Buffy got in a lucky shot every now and then."

"Oh, I could take you," Cordy proclaimed, annoyed and yet strangely relieved by that fact she knew the statement was true. "I _can_ take you. I just don't want to."

Faith shook her head. "Fine. If you aren't going to fight then get out of my way."

"No."

"C, move," Faith said, her voice taking on an almost whining tone. "Just let me leave, okay?"

Cordelia almost found herself feeling sorry for the younger girl. "Then what?" Faith raised an eyebrow in question. "I let you go, then what? You go back to trying to kill us? Trying to kill the Scoobies? Trying to kill God knows who else?"

Faith winced at each comment, feeling every allegation like it was a physical blow. She hung her head, not meeting Cordelia's eyes. "No. Then you never ever see me again."

"Why? Because you'll have killed yourself?"

That regained Faith's attention. "What? No. I-"

"You would. You've already tried," the other woman accused, pointing at the pink-hued bandages that covered Faith's arms.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself."

"Looked that way to me."

"I wasn't! I was just… Things just got out of hand and I… What do you care!" Faith yelled, anger welling up inside her. She wanted to lash out at Cordelia but knew any attempt would be pointless.

"I care!" The other woman responded, surprised to realize that in some way she actually did.

"Bullshit." Faith tried to storm past once more, only to find herself pushed down onto the floor by an equally angry Cordelia. The Californian put pressure on Faith's arms to keep her from squirming free and the East-Coaster bit her lip as the force of Cordelia's grip split open some of the recently sealed cuts.

"Bullshit my ass!" Cordelia yelled, finally having enough of Faith's attitude. "Some people actually do care about you, y'know!"

"Liar!"

"I am not!" Kneeling next to the girl Cordelia managed to catch a glimpse of Faith's eyes and recoiled at what she found there. The shocked brunette released the Slayer's arms and sat back on her heels. Faith really believed that she was lying, that nobody gave a damn about her. "I am not a liar," Cordelia reiterated quietly but firmly.

Faith just lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "Sure you're not. And I'm freakin' Santa Claus."


	4. You Were Something Less

_Stay inside the hole  
Let me take control_

_**(Dominate)  
**_

_You were nothing more  
You were something less  
_

_**(Innocent)  
**_

_Something I still get  
Something I have to break  
_

_**(Omnipresent)  
**_

_Fingers on your skin _

Let me savage in 

_  
**(You deserve it)** _

(Don't go) I never wanted anybody more then I wanted you

_**(I wanted you)**  
(I know) The only thing I ever really loved, was hurting you_

_**(Was hurting you)**  
(Don't go) I never wanted anybody more then I wanted you_

_**(I wanted you)**  
(I know) The only thing I ever really loved, was hate_

_-**The Nameless** by **Slipknot**_

* * *

Lilah Morgan was not pleased.

Like a force of nature she moved down the hallways of Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles branch, her chin held high regally and her eyes burning with a fire that made even the most hardened men scamper out of her path. But then again, no one who worked for the firm, with the obvious exception of the senior partners, was as severe as Lilah Morgan. Even Lindsey, her most prominent adversary, found it difficult to match her callous nature.

Lilah thought he was going soft. She laughed quietly to herself. When the Senior Partners finally realized what a waste of effort Lindsey had been for the company Lilah would be there, watching as they exacted their punishment. She was practically tingling in anticipation. But that particular topic would be addressed later.

She burst through the door of Lindsay's office and he glanced up, immediately interested in whatever issue had made Lilah loose some of her perpetually ice-queen demeanor. If Lindsey didn't know any better he would have said that the particular emotion hiding in the back of Lilah's eyes was stress. It was an interesting phenomenon to witness. Lilah didn't get stressed; she dished it out to others like it was the Sunday Brunch Special. This new chink in her armor was something that he took note of for later.

"We found her."

Lindsey nodded. He had expected as much. "Where?"

The look on Lilah's face was priceless. She shook her head disapprovingly. "She's with him."

Lindsey blinked. "Is he dead?" he asked, though he was already fairly certain of the answer, if the way Lilah was twitching was any indication. Either they had just created what was one of the stupidest mistakes the high-paid lawyer duo had ever participated in or she had just lost a screaming match with one of the flunkies down in Contracts. Though it seemed childish Lindsey hoped it was the later. That way there was no bad news for him and Lilah most likely had a headache and would be occupied for the next few hours while she dealt with whoever was working down in the lower levels of W&H hell. A win-win situation for him.

Lilah, however, gave him little time to arrange his delusion into a full-fledged fantasy. Straight to the point as ever she poured herself a whiskey –neat, sans the ice for maximum effect- and stated the facts. "Well, he is a vampire, so technically, yes, he is dead." _Which actually would hold water in a court of law if this had been a legally bound killing,_ she thought, mildly sidetracked. "But not by her hand. She is his _house guest_."

"What?"

"That's right. The reason our little assassin hasn't made good on her contract is that she's rooming with the mark."

Lindsey frowned. "We hired her to kill him," he stated, annunciating each word to make sure he was clear.

"I believe I covered that with the assassin part."

"And he ends up inviting her to spend the night," he continued, ignoring his rival's superfluous comment.

Lilah practically growled. "I told you he wouldn't be easy," she said haughtily. Of course she had told him that –after she had suggested the plan in the first place. It was best to cover all her bases. She sipped at her whiskey again, relishing the burn. "He can't be bought, and apparently he can't be killed, even by a Vampire Slayer," she continued, perching herself on the edge of Lindsey's desk. Might as well make herself comfortable in his office. Once the Senior Partners had eliminated Lindsay's contract she was going to put in a bid for this room. It had a better view of the skyline than her's. "Rumor has it he used to actually date one."

"Who else knows about this?" Lindsey demanded. This situation was spiraling ridiculously out of control.

"No one outside of this room. Not yet anyway."

"When word gets back to the senior partners this won't go well. We conspired with her, paid her half up front, and now she makes us look like fools." Lindsey shook his head in disappointment as he listed off the recent events. "So question is: how are we gonna fix it?" Both lawyers turned their attention to the third member of the meeting to see if he had any interesting suggestions.

Lee, a neck brace supporting the weakened bones in his spine and his face literally black and blue managed to growl out five words through the wire that kept his fractured jaw locked. Spittle flew freely from his split lips as he uttered those words he had been dying to say since their little "meeting" with the Rogue Slayer.

"I say we kill her."

* * *

The popcorn looked like it probably tasted, hard and crisp around the edges, due largely to the fact that Cordelia had over-cooked it. How she had managed such a feat when using a microwave was beyond Faith's ability to comprehend but it didn't really matter anyway. She wasn't eating and neither Cordy's coaxing nor her forceful words would make her change her mind.

"You really should eat _something,_" Cordelia practically sulked. Faith gave her a look and shoved the bowl of popcorn to the other side of the small kitchen table where the two women were seated. Conveniently the Sunnydale native had seated herself between the Slayer and the door but Faith didn't see her obstruction being a problem for much longer. The accelerated healing that came with her Chosen abilities began doing it's job the second her wounds were created, so Cordelia, despite her newfound confidence in Slayer-wrangling, would be little-to-no match for Faith in another minute or two. Unfortunately the boosted immune system and cell divisional factors that actually made Faith heal faster created a hastened metabolism, which required a lot of fuel.

In other words, Faith was a little hungry. But she was not going to eat the popcorn. No way in hell.

"Fine then. More for me." To prove her point Cordy took a handful of the heated kernels and munched down. She paused in the middle of her bite, made a face, and then forced herself to swallow. "Mmmm… that was good."

"Uh huh," Faith coolly commented, her voice bland. "Sure looked like you enjoyed it too."

In a practised pout, one developed over years of dealing with Daddy and his Gold Card, Cordy pushed the plastic bowl back to the centre of the table. "Okay, so maybe the popcorn was a bad idea. It's not as if Angel had anything else stocked in his cupboards," she muttered, ignoring the popcorn snootily as if it was solely the buttery treat's fault. Glancing around her eyes landed on the couch and the grey-socked feet that were propped up on the nearest arm. "New plan: we steal Wes's wallet and order pizza."

"You serious?" Faith asked incredulously, a twitch of a smile gracing her features. This new Cordy seemed a bit more fun than the one she had known months ago back in Sunnydale. It would be interesting to see how much the May Queen had changed, if Faith was planning to hang around.

Yeah, right. Like she was really gonna stay here for much longer.

Cordelia caught the subtle shift in the other girl's attitude and practically glowed in victory. "So? You don't like pizza now?"

"I haven't had pizza in a while."

"Why? Dieting?" She gave the younger woman the standard once over and stated rather matter-of-factly, "you don't look like you need to loose any weight."

Faith's smile turned into an almost patronising grin. "Um, Cordelia? Coma, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Besides, what if Wesley has no money in his wallet?"

Both women jumped at the new voice. The Watcher yawned and stretched before practically rolling off the couch. He retrieved his jacket from the coffee table and stood slowly, rubbing an ache he blamed the couch springs for vehemently. Cordelia watched him with an amused expression, guessing accurately at what had caused Wesley's sudden annoyance while Faith desperately tried to blend in with the scenery. The Slayer's sudden disinclination caught Wes's attention and he raised a brow in curiosity at the cosy setting in the kitchen. "Hmm. Nice to see everyone getting along so well."

* * *

"This is the location."

From the roof of a building across the street he gestured to the front entrance of Angel Investigations. One of his associates snorted disapprovingly. "Over two-hundred years on this Earth and the bastard can't afford himself a decent head-quarters."

"Vampires today. No work ethic."

"Enough." One word of command was sufficient to silence his associates. "The Board of Directors is already far from impressed with our recent performance. We need to remain focused."

"It wasn't our bloody fault. The other damn Slayer…"

He trailed off before his companion silenced him again. "We should have been able to handle both Slayers. We need to be more prepared this time."

"What about the vampire?"

"He's been deemed nonessential."

"But it's been prophesised-"

"The Board doesn't care. He's a vampire, they're all the same regardless."

"And the others? The civilians who work with him?"

"Not an issue. Our priority is the Slayer. Anyone else who gets in the way is expendable."

* * *

Coffee. It was an essential part of life at the Wolfram and Hart building, much like it was in the rest of the city, and the rest of the world for that matter. Lilah inhaled the pungent aroma, savoring the flavor that tickled her nose and wished she had the opportunity to make the blend a little stronger. Perhaps Irish the beverage up a little, but now wasn't the best time for creative license.

"We'd like to thank you for coming down on such short notice," Lindsey nodded to their guest, inwardly smirking as Lilah busied herself over the drinks. He found it almost fascinating, the heartless bitch looking so domesticated.

Lilah was oblivious to her associate's analysis. "We trust we can rely on your professionalism."

"We've had some trouble with freelancers in the past," Lee growled out. His face was still a living train wreck and it made everything he said come out as a tactless bark. Not that he had the best people skills to begin with but his bluntness was beginning to irk even the impassive Lilah Morgan. Lindsey thought she might give herself a hernia if she acted any more personable. Lilah thought she should slap Lindsey up the side of his head but that just wouldn't do. Not with a new employee in the room and all.

"Do you take cream?" Lilah gestured to the thick white substance within on of the silver dishes in front of her. When she received no response she assumed that was a negative. "No? All right."

Lindsey fished through some of the files that sat in front of him until he found what he was looking for. After having actually met the woman in person he had decided that the photo from the police file did her nowhere near justice but they hadn't thought to take a new picture for the personnel files. "Here is the target."

Lee grunted. "Don't let the picture fool you. She's tougher than she looks."

"We're not talking about anything elaborate," Lindsey noted truthfully. He didn't want another cover-up and certainly not another botched assassination attempt. "No slow or painful death."

"Well, some pain would be good."

"The point is: we want her dead."

"Yes. Dead." Lee's mangled face contorted into a sneer-like grin. "A lot."

Lilah returned to the table, tray balanced precariously in the palm of one hand. She placed the tray in the center of the table and Lindsay quickly took advantage of the unspoken offer. He began loading sugar into his cup and Lilah suppressed a shudder. The man was far too sweet for her tastes. "Just so we're clear we won't be putting any of this down on paper," she addressed the group's latest business associate. "This is strictly a handshake deal."

"Not that it is necessary for you to have hands for us to do business with you."

Lilah recoiled, placing a hand on her chest for dramatic license. Inwardly she cursed Lindsey for picking up the subtle slip in her political correctness. The man could be so God damned anal sometimes. "That was species-ist of me. I apologize if I-" With a high pitched snarl their guest buried it's' face into a silver dish, devouring the sweet white cream it contained in earnest. Lilah paused to gather herself before continuing. "-Have offended you-" Masticated cream splattered onto the antique Oak table. "-In any way."

The creature looks up. The mauled cream highlighted the mouthful of fangs and mandibles that took up the lower half of its face. It hissed, black shadows rippling across the iridescent turquoise skin. The obsidian eyes twinkled maliciously…

* * *

"No, Giles. I won't let her just run away from the mess she's made. Again." She let out an angry exhalation and the passenger side window fogged up briefly with the condensation. A static murmur from the other end of the line buzzed a proposal. "No, I can't 'take this to the proper authorities.' I wish to God I could, but we've been over this before. The police wouldn't know what to do with a Slayer even if they did know we existed." She paused again and listened to another suggestion. This one stirred her and she inhaled deeply. Her fingers slowly released the cellular phone from the death-grip she held it in. "The Council?" Buffy asked through gritted teeth. "I think we've had more than enough help from them for this lifetime. And now she's after Angel? She's gone too far this time, Giles. Faith needs to be dealt with and dealt with now. I can't let one homicidal maniac get in the way of another. Adam's just gonna have to put the Apocalypse on hold for a day or two." She slammed the phone down onto the armrest next to her, wincing when her enhanced hearing picked up the sharp snap of an LED screen.

"Hey, take it easy." A large calloused hand rested softly on her thigh. "We'll get her. I promise."

Buffy placed her own hand on top of Riley's, giving his a measured squeeze. "I'm sure we will," she answered, steel determination flaring up in her eyes.

"I _know_ we will…"

* * *

Fai kicked at the bottom corner of her locker. The metal had been bent by students years before herself and twisted back into place in such a way that it was virtually impossible for her to shut the locker completely. Not that it contained anything of serious value: a few pencils, the vampire Pez stick Sarah had swapped her for a Twix bar that Fai had purchased God-knew-when, a couple of car magazines, text books that hadn't been opened since they were issued before Summer Break and a mix tape of Punk and Metal. Okay, the Pez she wanted to keep but everything else was pretty worthless to her. Fai kicked the locker again, satisfied this time when the door was wedged closed inside its frame.

"Hell-o baby!" Nate came up behind her, covering her eyes despite the fact the gesture was redundant. Fai had long ago become accustomed to the sound of his heavy gait and personal smell of gunpowder and chilli dogs. He reminded her of the Fourth of July.

"Hey dumbass. Took your time gettin' over here. I was 'bout to send a search party after your ass." She grinned good-naturedly and cuffed him on the shoulder. Nate stumbled back and feigned injury.

"Oh, God. The pain!" He doubled over and Faith smacked him on the head. "Ow…" he whined, rubbing a spot below his hairline. "See, that one did hurt."

"Uh-huh," she agreed, gathering her bag from the floor before turning to leave.

Nate fell in step beside her. "No, I'm serious. Your swing's getting better. You almost hit like a girl now." She took another cheap swing at him and he broke into quiet laughter.

They exited the school from a fire escape that hung from level two, jumping from the rusted ladder to the ground with years of practised ease. It was habit, not necessity, which caused them to leave unseen from a back exit and head toward the railway tracks a few blocks from the High School. Usually no-one but the janitor and a few of Boston's gutsier bums would be rummaging in the school's dumpsters, so the clean cut woman in the immaculate business suit came as a shock to the youngsters.

The woman, glancing around with obvious disdain for her location and apparently trying not to touch anything, including the ground, looked startled by the appearance of the two teens, but quickly shook it off. She took a step forward and extended a hand toward the girl. "You must be Faith," she stated, her foreign accent making Fai's ears twitch.

Nate took a step forward and tried to play hero. "What's it to you, lady?"

"My name is Danielle Haversham," she introduced, voice filled with authority. She locked her eyes with the young brunette, ignoring the boy that stood between them. "And I am here to show you to your destiny."

Fai was silent for a moment, before shaking off the unnerving sensation the random woman conveyed. She reached out and grabbed Nate's hand. "C'mon. This woman is crazed." He nodded but didn't move until she had turned to leave and was twisting his arm uncomfortably in her grip.

"'Crazed' indeed…" Danielle echoed softly in her thick British accent as the pair exited the alley.


	5. You Got A Reaction

_You're given a flower_  
_But I guess there's just no pleasing you  
__Your lip tastes sour  
__But you think that it's just me teasing you_

_You got a reaction  
__You got a reaction, didn't you?  
__You took a white orchid  
__You took a white orchid turned it blue_

_-**Blue Orchid** by **The White Stripes**_

* * *

Cordelia sat in Angel's armchair, flicking channels on a television set that looked like it had seen better days. On the floor seated next to the lazy-boy and leaning against it sat Faith, watching the channels flash by with disinterest. The silence that had begun after Wesley left had encompassed the entire room and Cordy bit her lip, trying to think of a way to alleviate it. "You sure you don't wanna watch anything?" she asked the Slayer again. 

Faith, for her part, continued to stare vacantly at the television. "Xena?" Cordelia suggested, pausing her hand as a scantily dressed Lucy Lawless appeared on screen. "Kick-ass warrior woman? Leather? Medieval weaponry? Yes?" The Slayer barely blinked. "No? Okay, moving right along then." The channel flicked again to a blue clad super hero. "Ooh, look. Superman. You and Xander were always talking about whether or not the Hulk could kick his ass, right?" At the mention of the floppy haired boy, Faith seemed to shrink further into the corner. "Okay, so that's a no to Superman?" she asked needlessly and flicked the channels once more.

"When's Angel gettin' back?" It was the first thing the dark-haired girl had said in a while, and Cordelia was saddened by her tone. She sounded like an abandoned child, not a supernatural warrior.

"Umm, Wesley said he was going to pick him up and make him pay for the pizza, so if he ordered from Dominoes again they should be back-"

_"Los Angeles police in conjunction with Federal authorities are looking for this woman tonight: a felony suspect from the California town of Sunnydale."_ God, that was a bad photo. Cordelia wrinkled her nose distastefully. _If they're gonna put people on TV without their permission you should at least make them look good. _The police report caught Faith's attention too. _"The young woman has fled to Los Angeles in recent days," _the announcer continued and the eyes of both women remained glued to the screen. _"Eyewitnesses identified her as being involved in several recent assaults. Police want your help in finding her." _

"No…" Faith was on her feet faster that Cordelia could follow. The Slayer had her back firm against the wall, as if she were trying to hide herself inside the cement. Though her head was down and her hair was covering her face Cordelia could still tell that the other brunette was freaking badly.

"Faith, it's okay," Cordy began, half out of her seat. Faith flinched away from the Sunnydalarians outstretched hand.

The announcer continued speaking, oblivious to the distress he was causing the woman he had pointed out to the entire city. _"A press conference was held earlier."_ The voice of Kate Lockley dragged Cordy's attention away from the younger girl and back to the screen. _"Anyone with any information about the whereabouts of this subject should get in touch with law enforcement immediately. Do not approach her. She is violent and unpredictable. I'll take a few questions..."_

Cordelia hit the power button on the remote. _There goes Kate making a bad situation worse._ She was standing next to the Faith by now, invading what the Slayer would definitely call her personal space. Cordy ignored the "bad, bad idea" feeling in the pit of her stomach and hesitantly placed a hand on the Slayer's arm. "Listen to me, Faith. You're safe here." She tried to catch the other girl's eyes. It was so hard with that mass of wavy brown hair acting as a barrier between them. "You hear me? You're safe…"

A blue creature picked that moment to drop in on them. The black tendrils that served as the bug demon's hair whipped down behind it as it dropped on top of the two women, causing them both to fall under the thing's weight. It screeched in Cordelia's ear, mandibles clacking noisily next to her face. Then it was gone, and Faith, who had been next to her, gone with it.

Faith was thrown over the couch. She landed heavily on her arms in an attempt to absorb the impact. "Argh!" Those pink bandages proved little protection against the concrete that slapped her arms upon impact. Her left arm… _Oh, fuck…_ It was burning and she couldn't move it. Spots appeared before her eyes and the demon was on top of her again, rolling her over and then pinning her to the ground. "No! NO! GET OFF ME!" She pushed at the creature with her right arm and made little leeway before the blue bug demon grabbed it with both claws and _squeezed._

Cordelia heard Faith scream from across the room. She had never heard the Slayer scream before. It shocked her out of immediate action. Meanwhile the demon had managed to grab hold of Faith's wrists and forced the woman's arms to her side. It used the floor as leverage and pushed its upper body off the girl. A deep gurgle came from somewhere deep within the blue bug's throat and the plates that covered its chest began to withdraw away from the center.

Faith didn't notice the motion. All she could see through tear-blurred eyes was the hulking figure pinning her down; all she could feel was his hot breath on her neck. Suddenly her mind was a decade younger and she was back in that shit-hole in South Boston. "Please…" she whispered, unknowingly begging to a demon who did not comprehend or care. "Please daddy… don't…"

* * *

Two fourteen year old children sat leaning against the chain-link fence that separated the train yard from the cracked asphalt streets of the older city.

"Pass the J, man."

Nate took another drag and then began coughing out clouds of white smoke. He blindly handed the joint to Fai as he wiped at a suddenly runny nose. "Fuckin' featherweight," Fai muttered. The tip of the blunt glowed a steady orange in the darkness. From this angle, in this light, Nate could barely see the dark purple welts and bruises that covered his friend's left eye and the split through her bottom lip. And if he kept his eyes only on her face he wouldn't notice they way she sat with her legs tight together and one arm tucked against her stomach, as if she were in pain. Apparently her mother's most recent "boyfriend" was getting bored with the aging crack-whore and now had his sights set on fresher meat. The scum. Nate would kill the bastard for Fai, had offered to do so before, but she had declined. He would be arrested leaving Fai alone. And her mother would only replace the scum with something dirtier.

"So, ya comin' to school tomorrow?" He asked. Fai shook her head, no. "Then what you gonna do? Hang 'round home?" She gave him a dark look and Nate knew he had stepped out of line. "Soz."

"S'okay," Fai brushed the remark off and blew a smoke ring. "Anyways, thought I'd just hitch a truck to the quarry. Chill there for a day or two." _At least until the swelling goes down._ Not that the girl cared that the other students thought she was Trailer. It was the teachers. If they thought she was fighting again they would expel her and she _needed_ school. It was somewhere to _be_. The joint passed hands again and Fai made a face as Nate bum-puffed it. "Take a drag and hold it like a man, chicken-shit."

The boy did as the younger girl instructed. "Want me to come with?" he asked, his voice tight as he held his breath. He exhaled a plume of smoke. "Keep you company?"

"Don't you have to go sniffin' after Tanya Ford, or something? Thought you wanted to score this weekend."

"I can scam for squirrel anytime." Truth be told, Nate wasn't that interested in Tanya anymore. Not after he had heard her calling Fai a cheap white-trash 2-cent hooker in front of the whole cafeteria. As cool as it would be to have bragging rights over the senior cheerleader Fai's feelings meant more to him than his teenage hormones.

Fai took the J once more and inhaled until the embers reached her fingertips. "Want the roach?" Nate shook his head and she slipped the last bit or marijuana into her jeans pocket. "You can come if you want."

"Coolies."

She stood and winced at some ache Nate couldn't see. "Times'a movin'. Think ol' Mitch is working at the Corner Bar tonight?" Mitchell was the forty something owner of a local bar on the Bad Side of the tracks with greasy hair and an even greasier smile. He had a tendency to tick off the pigs by serving minors, provided they had the money. Fai and Nate were frequently broke but they relied on Mitch's immorality and Fai's low cut shirts to distract him enough into a free round or two.

Nate nodded, jumping to his feet. "Sounds like a plan."

"Let's motorvate."

* * *

Kate had been staring at the computer screen for what seemed like hours. It was late and if she were married she would be giving her husband just cause for a divorce lately. She sighed and rand a hand through her blond hair. "Married to the job, right dad?" she asked absently to the air. Her hand moved over the case files again. Thank god they had brought the precinct into the twentieth century. The mouse changed into a timer as she double clicked the forensics files.

The DNA matched up exactly. They had the fugitive's blood samples from her prolonged stay in Sunnydale General. But why was there so much of her blood at Victim Number One's apartment? And the knife…

The girl must have been attacked. From the shoe size and style Kate had been able to determine that the footprints left in the blood puddle at the crime scene belonged to two men. Had the fugitive been attacked? And then there was still the puzzle of this fugitive's so-called "super-powers."

Her hand moved of it's own accord, coming to rest on her phone. She picked up the receiver and began dialling a particular number for the third time. Stopped again for the third time. Hung up the phone for the third time.

"This is ridiculous," She muttered to herself quietly. She had thought to call Angel and that little Private Eye business he ran. Surely, with all the spooky dealings they had hands in they would know about a girl that was strong enough to beat a grown man into submission, right? But then she would have to admit to herself, and more importantly to _Angel_, that damn vampire that she needed help.

No. She'd puzzle this through on her own. She had to. Her father would be disappointed if she didn't.

* * *

"… please," Faith whispered again in a voice hoarse with tears. The bug demon screeched as the final chest-plate slid aside revealing a second mouth the size of a watermelon embedded in its chest. The new orifice vaguely resembled a food processor. What seemed like hundreds of teeth gnashed together in a circular formation inside the creature's chest.

The blue demon lowered its chest onto the Slayer's face. A long, forked tongue flicked out from the second mouth to taste the girl's face. Her tears tasted delicious…

And then there was pain.

* * *

The blue demon had the Slayer pinned and Cordelia willed the girl to get up and fight. Why was she just lying there? "Dammit," the ex-cheerleader cursed as she sprinted into the kitchen. Her hand was on the knife block in an instant, gripping the largest handle, and she was rewarded by Excalibur-ing a large butcher's knife.

She ran towards the demon, only to stop short a few feet away as her ears caught the sound of the younger girl's voice pleading to someone to stop…

"Yarr!" Cordelia yelled as she thrust the knife between the demon's scales. The blue creature reared up and hissed at his attacker with both mouths, making to grab for her. The woman squeaked and jumped back as the demon landed on the floor. Florescent blood was seeping out of the knife wound and it made a last ditch effort to escape. By now the demon had lost feeling in its legs and was trying to drag itself away with its arms alone. When it was nearly halfway across the room, a good distance from both Slayer and actress it collapsed, succumbing to death's touch.

_Did I actually just kill that thing?_ Cordelia thought in wonder. "Wow. Go team Me." Suddenly her mind snapped back to other matters. "Faith," the older woman said in a voice she usually reserved for animals and small children. She couldn't decide which one Faith reminded her of more at the moment. The Slayer lay with her back to Cordy, huddled into herself. Dropping to a crouch next to the girl Queen C tried figure out exactly what had just happened there. The Slayer had malfunctioned or something. She certainly hadn't done what she was meant to do, which was slay. "Faith, are you okay?"

She reached out a hand and gently ran her fingers through the younger girl's dark hair, amazed at how soft it felt between her fingers. She wondered if Faith even realised she was there.

* * *

The vampire had a look of solid disgust on his face. Wesley had never actually seen the vampire revolted. Unsettled, yes, especially when they had ended up virtually covered in pink potpourri-scented blood after accidentally blowing up an exceptionally obese Traguij demon. But the gaping hole that served as the blue creatures secondary mouth seemed to particularly disturb the vampire.

"I know what this is," Angel stated unexpectedly.

"Oh? You've encountered this species before, hen?"

His brow was creased in concern as he nodded in response to Wesley's question. "Yeah, it's a Krillian Trooper." He didn't sound too happy about he fact.

"Krillian… Krillian…" Wesley repeated, tasting he word on his tongue. "Yes, I believe I've heard of them before. A insect-like species," Wesley pointed out, relishing the chance to play Watcher for a few moments. "They live in small family groups of up to ten. The largest "hive" was record at twenty-five during the Xiao dynasty in ancient China, but it has been speculated that the group was two families forced to share the same territory for a brief while." He returned his attention to the dead specimen on the floor before him. "I wouldn't worry too much about this fellow, though. Cordelia seems to have killed it good and dead."

"You forgot one thing, Wes," Angel brought up, sounding very Hollywood as he did so. "Krillian's have a hive mentality. They share a psychic link, so you can bet that now this one's dead the others will be gunning for it's killer."

"Good Lord. Cordelia-"

"And probably Faith too, simply because she was here when it died." He shook his head. "This one's whole hive knows what they look like now, I guarantee it."

"What should we do?" Wesley asked, looking to the older male for guidance.

Angel sighed in a very human way for someone who ha no breath. "We'll have to eliminate the nest," he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"And the girls?" Wesley asked, his eyes focusing on the door to the vampire's room where both women waited for the men to remove the corpse. "Taking on that many demons is a two person job."

"What about them?" the broody vamp asked irritably. "Wesley, if you're worried about Faith doing something-"

"No," the British man cut him off. "I'm worried about leaving them alone," he confided to Angel. "I'm worried about leaving them _unprotected."_

Both men where silent for a moment, pondering the meaning of Wesley's words. What _had_ happened here? They had returned with the pizzas promised only to find a dead demon lying in the middle of the floor. Both Wesley and Angel had grown concerned for the women and began calling for them until Cordelia came out of the bedroom and told them to keep the noise down. She briefly explained the situation: a demon had attacked, taking advantage of Faith's injuries so Cordy herself had surprised it by coming from behind and stabbing it in the back. Now Faith was a little sore again so she had returned to bed for while to rest and _no_ they could not see her, because she was _resting._

"So what should we do?"

"Go after the demons," the certainty and force in the voice made it difficult to believe that it could have come from Cordelia. She closed the door to the bedroom behind her but remained standing in the doorway, as if she were guarding the threshold. "We'll be fine here," she said with surprising conviction considering how aware she was of Faith's violent history. Cordelia gave them a look that said she would brook no argument. "Go save us damsels from distress."

* * *

Cordelia had made sure they'd taken the demon with them before returning to the bedroom. She perched on the edge of the bed, beside the Slayer. "It's okay, Faith. It's okay, they're gone now." She combed her finger through a few soft wisps of the other girl's hair in what she thought was a comforting manner. Faith didn't even try to pull away, she was so lost. "It's okay," Cordy said again, though she wasn't sure whether she was reassuring Faith or herself more. 


End file.
